by Kim Lee

Created on: January 16, 2008

From the time I was a little girl, with dark brown hair, dark features, and olive skin, I was constantly being mistaken for being Italian. I loved it though, because Italian food was my absolute favorite! Of course, when you're very young, Italian food consists simply of spaghetti and pizza! It wasn't until after I married and moved to Massachusetts that I had the opportunity to taste "real" Italian food!

At the time, we lived only twenty-eight miles north of Boston and it's North End. The North End is to Boston, what Little Italy is to New York City. Heaven! My husband and I used to frequent the North End in search of the "Italian experience." We would "pahk ah cah" and walk several blocks, until the streets turned to cobblestone. Then, along with the wonderful smells radiating from the open air cafes, we knew we'd reached our destination!

For those who've never had an opportunity to travel abroad and experience Italy first hand, a trip through Boston's North End would give you a good taste (no pun intended) of what it's like. As we'd walk through the narrow, winding streets, we'd see the elder men sitting out on their front door stoops; some playing cards, some just having a good smoke with friends, and others chatting and arguing back and forth in their native Italian language. Italian music could be heard playing from the adjacent restaurants, against the noise of children playing jump rope in the street. Salumerias (Italian deli/grocery stores)had windows filled with procuitto, Italian sausages, large chunks of fresh mozzarella, spices and Italian coffees. A small church with a front yard garden sat amidst taller brick and concrete buildings, which housed old time barber shops and small cafes. Every time we'd visit the area, I felt as if I'd been transported to another time and place.

The most difficult part of our trip was choosing which restaurant to have lunch or dinner at, because they were all so good! No where else could you enjoy the wonderful crusty Italian bread, served with a spicy, hearty olive oil! I had all I could do to leave room for the main course! Pasta, veal, seafood; it didn't matter what it was, all of it was excellent! Thankfully, where to go for dessert was not as difficult a decision! There, in the center of Hanover Street, sat Mike's Pastry! Leave your diet behind, because there's no way you could walk through Mike's without leaving with a good sized box of pastries!

We'd enter the pastry shop, bustling with activity, Italian being

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